


A Warm Black Sweater on a Cold Cruel Day

by allapplesfall



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: 5 Things, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I don't know how to tag this, Lots of Angst, Original Character Death(s), basically gogo has been through shit, gogo-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 17:55:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3077663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allapplesfall/pseuds/allapplesfall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gogo Tomago is no stranger to grief.</p><p>Her black sweater isn't either.</p><p>Five times that Gogo had to wear that black sweater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Warm Black Sweater on a Cold Cruel Day

1.

The first time Leiko Tanaka wore her black sweater was when she was six years old. Her mother had picked it up for her at the thrift shop at the corner, intending for her to use it when the San Fransokyo fog rolled in with frigid winds.

 

Instead she had first worn it on a cold grassy lawn, standing with her father in front of an ornate silver jar, sweater reaching down to her knees. Her eomma was in that urn. It made her six year-old stomach twist, to think that the hands that had chosen the sweater were now pieces of ash in a pot.

 

Her father’s hand bit too deeply into her shoulder as she picked up the urn and let the ashes empty onto the wind.

 

She grieved for the loss of her mother.

 

 

 2.

Leiko wore the sweater the day her father broke her rib and bruised her face and locked her in the closet. He’s not dead, the twelve year old thought, but he may as well be. She decided that she would not let him break her.

           

She grieved for the loss of her father.

       

    

 3.

She wore the sweater the day that she woke up with his blood on her hands. Leiko woke with the knowledge that she killed a man, that she killed her father, and she rushed to the bathroom. She was sick again and again, knowing that she had had no choice. Her father was strong, and when his hits landed they hurt and bruised her. She was fast, and she was too young to want to die.

           

He would have killed her, she knew, if she hadn’t grabbed the knife on the counter and thrust it into his chest. Still, she threw up until she had nothing left and then picked up the phone. She pressed three numbers, then held the phone up to her ear.

           

“My name is Leiko Tanaka, I’m sixteen, and I killed my dad. Please, come help me.”

           

She grieved for the loss of her childhood.

 

 

4. 

It was Ethel that wore the sweater next.

           

“An English name will be easier for some people to pronounce, and will make you more requestable,” Josh had said.

           

“So you went with _Ethel_?” she had asked, incredulous.

           

“Hey! It was my mom’s name, okay? They asked your name and I just said the first thing that came into my head,” he had defended.

           

“They should just have to learn how to pronounce my real name.”

           

She still ended up going by Ethel, somehow.

           

Josh had showed her how to get a better rush than she had been getting by running, showed her how on a bike she could zip around San Fransokyo like the wind with packages on her back. He had taken her to get her tattoos, beautiful curling circles that crested the backs of her shoulder blades. He had made her laugh after she never thought she would again. Josh was the one who had figured out that she was actually really smart, and had told her she should apply to college.

           

And then he was gone, and it was a silly accident, and it made Ethel hate the universe. She wore the sweater alone in her home, rubbing the sleeves over the spare bike helmet that he had left in her apartment. She wasn’t invited to the funeral.

           

She grieved for the loss of her brother.

   

        

5.

            She was Gogo when she wore the sweater to Tadashi’s funeral. That hurt so, so much. Tadashi was her best friend, the first person she’d formed a connection with since Josh. He had thawed her jagged edges, brought out the warmth that she’d buried deep inside, and introduced her to three other friends that changed her life.

           

She was part of the procession as they walked to the cemetery. Gogo held onto Honey and tried to console her friend as she sobbed, but Gogo was unaccustomed to grieving with people. It had been her and her dad, and then it had been just her.

           

At the reception, she stood with Wasabi and Fred and Honey Lemon and surrounded Aunt Cass loosely. Honey seemed to know just what to say, comforting the woman with little touches.

 

Gogo felt like the world was crumbling beneath her feet, adding another hole to the chasm inside her chest, and she knew from experience, too damn much experience, that she wouldn’t cry yet. She would wait a few more days, toughing it out, and then the dam would break. But something in the way that Wasabi guided her out of the Lucky Cat, and the way that Honey made them all dinner, struck a chord in her heart.

 

The sweater fit properly now, showing no sign of the age or memories that it carried. _You’re not little Leiko anymore_ , it seemed to tell her. She was still grieving, but, for the first time in her life, she wouldn’t have to do it alone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of a rushed, late night ficlet thing. I just have a lot of feelings about Gogo, okay?  
> Oh, and please, please tell me this is a sweater. If it isn't, well, there's a fic down the drain: https://31.media.tumblr.com/d6efaeab49f14e5d1f91d031164df570/tumblr_neplr5Wie11t6hkljo1_500.png


End file.
